


i see the worst of you (and it makes me love you more)

by bitchbabymurdock



Series: boy in the bubble [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Scars, soft frank, the frank/matt is more implied but technically this whole thing can be platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 18:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20586905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchbabymurdock/pseuds/bitchbabymurdock
Summary: Frank decides they need to talk about Matt's scars.





	i see the worst of you (and it makes me love you more)

**Author's Note:**

> same universe as the road is long, we carry on! if you haven't read that yet i'd highly recommend it, but you technically don't really need to lol  
takes place after ch 12 (i told this kid i'm ready for a fight) and before ch 13 (just looking for trouble)!  
also this is from franks pov which was . weird but fun fghkjdfs

He figures Matt can probably tell that he’s been on the verge of speaking for the past half-hour, but even still he can’t quite force the words out. He rubs at his head with a silent groan before pinching his thigh and gathering all of his courage.

“What you said- to Elektra, about- about your back,” he says in a rush, “was that true?”

Matt gives him an unimpressed look, brows raised over the rim of his glasses. He sticks a piece of paper into the crease of his book, closing it gently. “Yeah. Why would I lie about that?”

Frank shifts in his chair. “I’m not trynna- I was just wondering, is all.”

Matt sighs, scooting away from the table so he can turn his body towards him. “I was telling the truth,” he says. He smiles, bitter and lost. “You can look if you don’t believe me.”

Frank backtracks quickly. “No, no- I believe you, Red. Really.” He taps a finger against the table in a slow rhythm, lost in the way that Matt’s hunched over slightly even as he’s facing him, looking so wounded yet stubborn in a way that’s wholly unique to him. “Can I? Would you be okay with it?”

Matt tilts his head up. “Okay with what?” He’s still tense, but there’s not as much of an edge as there usually is, which helps to ease some of Frank’s nerves.

“Letting me see,” he says. He makes a broad stroke in the air with his hand, gesturing towards Matt’s torso. He knows Matt can sense (or hear, or whatever he actually does) motions with his weird super senses, but he figures making larger movements is easier to understand. “If you don’t wanna I get it, but if-”

Matt stands abruptly and Frank’s heart skyrockets. He gives Frank an undecipherable look for several long moments before nodding. He gestures Frank closer, and once they’re less than a foot apart, he turns around. “You can just lift my shirt,” he murmurs. His head is ducked down so his chin is only inches above his chest, and it’s not lost to Frank how vulnerable of a position Matt’s putting himself in. He doesn’t think he’d ever get tired of looking at Matt, not when he’s so beautiful and  _ good _ , the picture-perfect definition of an angel.

“Alright. I’m just gonna-” he cuts himself off and carefully takes the hem in one hand, lifting it slowly until it reveals marred skin. He sucks in a sharp inhale at the sight, taking in the scars and pink flesh, burn marks and cuts that are scattered across. “Stick did this?” he asks, voice hoarse. He traces each one with his eyes, rage filling his heart and making his unoccupied hand tighten into a fist.

Matt hums vaguely. “If it’s going to be making you upset, maybe you should stop.”

Frank shakes his head furiously. He may feel nothing but hatred for the old man, but he wants to make sure that Matt knows how his scars are just as good as the rest of him. He takes in a shaky breath, willing his heart to slow down. “Can I touch you?”

Matt nods weakly, and it’s a testament to how important Frank’s reaction is to him that he doesn’t even joke about his poor choice of words. And Frank’s not going to ruin this opportunity even if it kills him to set aside his anger.

He brings a finger up to graze against one of the bigger scars, a long pink slash just under his left shoulder blade. Matt shivers at the touch.

“Don’t do it so lightly,” Matt says softly. His voice is lighter and more relaxed, and Frank smiles automatically in response. “It tickles.”

“So you’re ticklish, huh?” He grins but obeys, hand firmer as it moves along each bit of healed skin. “Good to know.”

Matt swats at his hand halfheartedly, but he’s smiling and it’s one of the most stunning things Frank’s ever seen. He knows his heart must be doing all kinds of acrobatics in his chest, but he can’t even bother mustering up the energy to care when he gets to see Matt like this- when he gets to  _ cause _ Matt to look like this.

He lets his hands drop after wandering over a few more scars, not wanting to push whatever it is between them too far. Matt looks over his shoulder at him, his expression so open and honest it makes him ache.

“I’m sorry for the bullshit that caused them, but you look pretty damn cool, Red,” he says.

Matt laughs, twisting so his body is facing his. “Glad you think so.” He beams up at Frank, and Frank swears inside his head.

Matt is truly, honestly too good for all of the pain and misery he’s had to deal with so far, and Frank’s tugging him against his chest before he even realizes it, squeezing him tightly.

He feels Matt’s heart race against his torso, but he doesn’t push away from the contact, instead relaxing into it.

Frank clutches onto him, pressing his eyes closed tightly and deciding that he’ll die before he lets anyone hurt Matt ever again.


End file.
